


but I’ll be close behind

by zjofierose



Series: Sheith Angst Week 2019 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, after the war, s8 don’t know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 14:43:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zjofierose/pseuds/zjofierose
Summary: Keith’s abandonment issues are earned.





	but I’ll be close behind

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the tags, plz.
> 
> Written for the day 3 prompt of "abandonment issues" for Sheith Angst Week 2019.
> 
> Because September is National Suicide Awareness Month, and due to the loss of yet another member of my extended family to suicide (not to mention the friends and classmates), I will be dedicating my @sheithangstweek fics this week to suicide prevention. Please see my twitter (@zjofierose) for further info.

“Shiro! _Shiro!”_

“In here,” Shiro calls, turning in time to see Keith round the doorframe, eyes wide and breath coming hard. There’s the sheen of panic around his edges, so Shiro opens his arms and lets Keith walk into them, holding him close until the minute trembling in his frame stills. 

“Better?” Shiro asks, and Keith nods faintly, taking a steadying breath before he steps back. 

“Sorry,” Keith says, eyes downcast, and Shiro catches at his chin, raising his face until those dark eyes are locked onto his own. 

“It’s ok,” he keeps his voice level, neutral. “It’s my fault. I should have told you where I was going.”

Keith shakes his head angrily, folding his arms. “I’m a grown-ass adult,” he bites out, tone bitter and sharp “you shouldn’t have to tell me where you are every goddamn second of the day.

“I don’t think ‘should’ really enters into it,” Shiro tells him calmly. “I know how you react when you don’t know where I am; it’s not an unreasonable burden for me to make sure you know where I’ll be.”

Keith just turns his face aside, and Shiro represses the urge to sigh as he turns back to the counter in front of him.

\--

The first time it happened was maybe half a year after they’d met, a few months into the beginning of their friendship. Shiro had gone on a two-night training camp-out and had neglected to tell Keith about it. It was a simple oversight, but he returned to a Keith who first screamed at him in fury and then wouldn’t speak to him for a week. It was a reaction clearly out of proportion to the incident, and Shiro had filed it away at the time for further investigation, not wanting to press Keith on it while he was so obviously upset. 

Time had passed, Keith had forgiven him, and they’d picked up their fledgling friendship as though nothing untoward had passed between them. Shiro never bothered to bring it up.

—

The second time was after Keith was well into his second year and they had become nearly inseparable. Shiro had fought with Adam, who was firmly against his applying for the Kerberos program. The fight had gotten ugly - not physical, that was a line neither would cross - but shouting, door slamming, and some very heated words. It had ended when Shiro had taken off on his hoverbike with nothing but his jacket and a final insult, leaving to hole up at Matt’s place for the weekend. 

He’d made up (mostly) with Adam on Sunday, and returned to their shared apartment on Monday, only to be accosted by Keith late that night in the gym. Keith had been wild-eyed and not at all restrained, and Shiro still had plenty of leftover adrenaline to burn off, which led to one of the most intense sparring matches they’d ever fought against each other. It went on and on, both of them baring their teeth and swearing, sweating and panting and finally, finally, Shiro had pinned Keith firmly enough that he couldn’t escape, only to have Keith bite him viciously, drawing blood and leaving a sharp semi-circle of cuts on his arm.

Keith had frozen, his face going white and horrified as he flung himself back from Shiro, and Shiro had fortunately retained enough sense to let him go. Neither spoke for a long moment until Keith finally gasped out a faint “_sorry_”, and Shiro had nodded and gone to the infirmary to get treated.

He’d blamed it on a non-existent dog, and gone straight to Keith’s quarters afterward. The door still opened to Shiro’s hand, but Keith’s back stayed stubbornly facing him from where he lay on the bed, curled into a ball. 

Shiro sighed, and sat down beside him, the gauze bandages on his arm rustling as he moved.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said eventually, settling a hand on Keith’s hip. “I just want to know why.”

Silence stretched out like still water, but of the two of them Shiro was by far the more stubbornly patient. 

“You should be mad at me,” Keith answered finally, and Shiro rubbed his thumb against Keith’s jeans encouragingly. 

“Should doesn’t really enter into it,” he said, “just… why were you so angry?”

“I didn’t know where you were,” Keith whispered, “I went to see you, and Adam said you’d left after a fight, and he didn’t know where you’d gone or when you’d be back.” He paused, then added, “if you’d be back.”

There was a weight to the final piece of the sentence that Shiro noted without comment, focused instead on resolving the present moment satisfactorily. 

“I’m right here,” he said, and thought for a moment before adding, “you know I’ll always come back, right?”

“No,” Keith response was instantaneous, followed by an immediate flip onto his stomach, muffling his next words in his pillow. “I don’t know that.”

—

The third time Shiro knew what to expect, but was at a frustrating loss of ideas of how to mitigate it. He’d been selected for the Kerberos mission, but sworn to secrecy. He was going to have to go on a three-day desert endurance retreat in an effort to simulate the austere conditions that will await them on the moon, and he was not allowed to tell anyone where he was going or why.

“Just lie to him, Shiro,” Matt said, and rolls his eyes. “Say you’re going home for the weekend, or a camping trip, or what the fuck ever.”

Shiro sighed. It was no good as a solution - he’d never been a good liar, and Keith knew him especially well - there was no way that Keith wouldn’t immediately see straight through it. 

He ended up leaving a note, even though he hated it. He would never leave a note this short or devoid of information if he had any choice, but eventually he settled on, Gone for three days. Promise I’ll be back Monday. Shiro.

After a moment’s further thought, he added, trust me.

He worried the whole time he was gone, but it’s not like there was anything he could do about it. Even if he could contact Keith, what would he say? He wouldn’t be allowed to say where he was or why. He refocused his energy instead into completing his tasks, fulfilling his role. It was all he could do.

Keith was in his apartment when he got home all sweaty and covered in dust. He eyeballed Shiro skeptically up and down before standing and walking toward him.

“Oh, you don’t want to…” Shiro started, but Keith pressed himself close before Shiro could finish, burying his face in Shiro’s sweat-soaked and dirt-covered shirt. He was shaking, and Shiro’s arms came around him unthinkingly, holding him close.

“I told you I’d come back,” Shiro murmured, unable to think of anything else he could say to make this better.

“You did,” Keith agreed, but he didn’t stop trembling for a long time.

—

Later, after Shiro had showered and eaten and they were sitting up on the roof in the dark staring at the stars, he turned and watched Keith by the faint ambient light of the buildings below them. He tried to choose his words carefully; he didn’t want to trivialize what was clearly a big deal for Keith.

Keith beat him to it.

“I don’t remember my mother leaving, but when I was eight,” he said evenly, his expression still, “my dad went to work and didn’t come back. I didn’t know anything was wrong until they came to tell me he’d died.”

Shiro nodded. He knew this much already, but Keith was working his way up to something bigger, so he held his tongue.

“The first foster home was fine, but they transferred me when I was ten. I found out when the social worker showed up at school with all my things. I never knew why, and I never got to say goodbye.” He exhaled slowly in a practiced manner. “The second foster home was… less good, but there were two girls older than me. We weren’t…” he trailed off for a moment, “we weren’t close, but we were all there together.”

He looked at Shiro for the first time, his eyebrows knitted in worry, afraid that Shiro wouldn’t understand. 

Shiro nodded for him to continue. 

“When I was twelve, the older girl, Nadia’s, boyfriend committed suicide. He shot himself while he was on the phone with her,” Keith stated flatly, and Shiro sucked in a startled breath. “He was going to kill them both, but Sasha, the younger one, was sick, and Nadia had stayed home with her.

Keith sat silently for a moment, staring back up at the sky. The ancient light of the Milky Way curved above them, reflecting the gleam of stars long gone onto the planes of Keith’s face.

“Nadia killed herself two weeks later,” Keiths said eventually, “she ran her car off a bridge. Left a note that said she felt guilty, and that she missed him. They took me and Sasha out of that home after the funeral, moved us to another one.” He sighed, studied his hands, and Shiro wanted desperately to put his arms around him, to offer the sort of support and comfort that it’s been clear for a while was never on offer the way that Keith needed, but he knew Keith wasn’t done and he didn’t want to interrupt. 

“Sasha...was… very depressed.” Keith laughed humorlessly. “As you might imagine, I guess. She made it another year, but then she OD’d in the bathroom on our foster mother’s anxiety pills.” Keith bit his lip, and Shiro could see his hands trembling. “I was the one who found her. She was supposed to meet me to do homework at the library, but she didn’t come. I didn’t know where she was, or what had happened. I tried CPR, but it was too late, and I…”

Shiro reached over and pulled Keith into his arms, holding him as he shook apart silently against Shiro’s chest. 

—

When Shiro was taken by the Galra, his first thought was, _I promised Keith I’d come back._

—

“Hey,” Shiro says, making his way onto the front porch. Keith’s perched on the end of the porch swing, knees up and arms around them, a defensive pose he doesn’t use as much these days. 

The war’s been over for two years, but Shiro can’t say he’s surprised that Keith’s still struggling with this particular legacy. It’s not just from the war, after all- it’s the culmination of a childhood of loss and grief and loneliness, compounded a hundredfold by Shiro’s own loss and recovery and loss again. He lies awake sometimes at night wondering if it might have actually been better if he’d stayed gone, rather than come back only for Keith to worry about losing him all over again.

He’d voiced this thought exactly once. It’s the only time Keith’s slapped him square in the face. It’s the only time Shiro lets him.

“Hey.” Keith’s voice is muted, but he leans over into Shiro’s side as Shiro sits beside him, laying his head on Shiro’s thigh as the sun sinks to meet the horizon. “I’m sorry that I’m like this,” he says softly, and Shiro curls down to press a kiss to his temple. 

“I’m no picnic either,” Shiro tells him, and it’s true. His nightmares are less, but not nearly gone; his startle reflex is a nightmare itself. He sleepwalks, zones out. Keith spends honestly far more time caretaking Shiro than the other way around. “Besides,” he adds, “I love you, and I don’t like making you upset. I’m sorry you had to go looking for me.”

Keith sighs. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean to.”

They sit for a long time, Shiro’s foot gently pushing, keeping the swing in slow motion as the sun slides behind the hills, pulling the blanket of stars with it as it fades away to the west. 

“Someday we won’t be like this anymore,” Keith says, and it’s both question and statement, so Shiro just bends to kiss him again.

“Someday,” he agrees.


End file.
